A rap for the righteous

Controversy is like crack. People crave it. They do anything to harvest it. Sometimes it’s opportunistic. And other times it’s an exercise in hatred. I think conviction is valuable. Standing up for what you believe in is a good thing. Except when you start becoming part of the struggle.

I just cannot take one more photo of a woman breastfeeding. We get it. We all get it. You believe in the right to feed your child. Whenever. Wherever. It’s totally legitimate. And it’s just a boob. Yes! It is. I absolutely support breastfeeding. In fact, I’m still breastfeeding my sixteen month old right now. I wholeheartedly understand what it means. But I also understand that the entire world doesn’t need me to post a picture of it in order to validate my stance. The first wave of photos were sensible and helped women gain the worth that they were seeking on the controversial issue. But then a whole ton of photos were being posted and it just got out of hand. Quickly. And now advocates for breastfeeding are losing credibility because it’s no longer about feeding your baby when/where you need to. It’s about garnering erroneous attention and watching people lose their $hit. The power of social media has now become a force rather than a form.

Breast is best. STOP! Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. But guess what? It doesn’t matter. Because unless you’re raising all 74 million children in the United States then you don’t get to make that assumption. Breastfeed. Or don’t. Take a picture. Or don’t. But just stop proclaiming the hierarchy of what it means to feed your child. Because you’re not actually helping the women who are really just, feeding their kid. Should you be allowed to feed your baby wherever and whenever he/she is hungry? Of course! But before you start touting your ways and making sure everyone else around you is mindful of those ways, consider the impact. If the impact isn’t actually gaining positive perspective then you’re really just doing it because you feel entitled. And that’s where this whole breastfeeding awareness went wrong. It’s not actually an entitlement. It’s a method. One that isn’t always an option for mothers. Or if it is, it’s not necessarily the preferred. And that’s okay. Really. Women get shamed for a lot. Anything and everything. But for the love…the how you feed your child shaming must end. Like. Yesterday.

If you find yourself in a public place and need to feed, then just do it. Don’t make a scene. You don’t see mothers mixing a bottle and shaking it in your face, just to be sure you saw that she’s MIXING A BOTTLE. Nope. So, breastfeed with the same discretion. There is no stage. It’s not a performance. Because now you’re just being a jerk. Yep. I said it. It’s just about your baby needing to eat.

To the mom: consider using a cover to protect all those involved. If you choose not to, then don’t get mad when people stare. Because you weren’t born yesterday. You know exactly what you’re doing and how society is going to react. It’s a work in progress. So until the breast is entirely de-sexualized {never going to happen} you may get asked to cover up. Whether you do or not, is your choice. But remember, public places are everyone’s business.

To the other person: don’t look and don’t let yourself be bothered. Because if you do, then you’re just feeding into the controversy. Yeah, it’s a boob. And a nipple. And no thanks to our society, it’s become more taboo than it should. So when you see one out in public, it becomes a fleeting distraction. But temporary disturbances happen every day. So move on. No photos. No confrontation. Just a baby eating. It’s pretty dang simple. And complicating it just stirs up the unnecessary drama.

Let’s cut to the chase. Parenting is about raising little humans to be great humans. And it’s about the individual choices we each make to achieve that. Safety. Humanity. Nurturing. Love. As long as you abide by these then anything else becomes your own set of rules. How you feed your little human is not a question that determines the fate of anything in your life. Or theirs. I had to renew my driver’s license last fall. Nowhere did I see a box to check that said breastfed or bottle fed. Nope. DOES. NOT. MATTER. My oldest was formula-fed. And now my youngest has been breastfed. And believe it or not? They’re both pretty awesome kids. One isn’t better than the other. Well, I take that back. My oldest {the formula-fed one} can wipe his own butt and sleeps through the night. So in all honesty, he’s a little better. But oh. Yeah. I guess that has nothing to do with how they were fed as babies. So oops. #IRRELEVANT